


Kiss, Kiss. Bang, Bang.

by kuro49



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Multi, emotionally-stunted!Charles, overly-affectionate!Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-07
Updated: 2012-02-07
Packaged: 2017-10-30 18:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/334704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The revolution ended before we even got started. Or the one where Erik says I love you and means it every time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss, Kiss. Bang, Bang.

**Author's Note:**

> Written based on the prospect that Erik might be quite the affectionate lover. But it can be seen as a slightly OCC flaw in his character… OTL

Charles wants Erik Lehnsherr the same way the society sees a woman wanting a man or a man wanting a woman in his arms. He shows him his best side, tries a little too hard and almost scares him off.

_Let me convince you otherwise_ , he starts and his fingers would find his buttons. "This is my offer." He lips would be glistening and then he will end it off with a _Take it or leave it_.

Except he doesn't say any of those daring things because Erik's hands are cupping his cheeks, pulling him into his arms and pausing just when the tension is finally unbearable.

"Don't be a tease, Erik."

It makes Charles' lips curl to know that he is breathing Erik's air. (Even though he hasn't even imagined this to happen, not so fast at the very least.)

"I think—"

Charles doesn't wait for him to finish, he wraps his hands around Erik's wrists, pulls them apart before he pushes his mouth over his. The taste of Erik's unsaid words dissolves on his tongue and he lets go of Erik's wrist just to wrap a hand around the other mutant's neck. Fingers teasing at the ends of those light brown locks.

 

 

This is the aftermath of a single case of momentum.

That single do or die that has been done.

 

 

It is a little startling, that very first time he hears it.

Erik doesn't seem the type. Or maybe he is exactly the type.

"I l—"

He catches the thought in his head before Erik says it, holds his tongue, cuts him off before the other could make this as real as everything else they've done. "What?" Charles pulls back from the kisses Erik is pressing against his neck and suddenly, the alcohol doesn't seem enough.

"I love you." Erik has a way with words that takes getting used to. Because there is never anything more.

"You." Charles doesn't hide the unbelieving shock in his words, steps back and is nearly knocked down by his own inabilities. And maybe he is just being unfair. "You mean it, don't you?"

"I wouldn't say it otherwise."

This is offsetting. This hasn't ever been fair.

"Hmm… well."

His eyes are lowered, his collar is still undone and he can feel Erik searching for a way in.

"Charles."

"…Yes?" He can't let that happen.

"Is this going to be a problem?"

Looking up, he smiles faintly and says, slowly. "I wouldn't call it… a problem."

"What would you call it then?"

"…I don't know."

Except he does, but he can't have Erik knowing, not when this is all (supposedly) a phase.

 

 

His tongue feels thick and heavy in the confines of his mouth, like the words he wants to utter are tying down his tongue. He tries to swallow but everything is coming back up.

It isn't difficult to say the words 'I love you' over and over again. No, it really isn't hard at all because it is a matter of whether you really mean it or not.

"It's not you."

"No, it's me."

"I love you."

"Yes, you do."

And that is precisely the problem with Erik.

He means it every single time.

 

 

Nothing changes in little subtle ways.

Instead Erik is bold and Charles still won't admit anything out loud.

"I love you," Erik murmurs into his neck, breath hot on his heated skin, no longer caring for whether Charles can say those three words. His fingers are marking a distracting pattern on his hips and Charles is finding it hard to get off the bed and he still hasn't said it, not once, not ever, he thinks. But that is just sad.

"Erik," he tugs at the hand at his hips. There are voices in the kitchens and questions are starting to rise from those minds. "As much as I'll like more of this, we really ought to get up."

"I hate keeping up appearances and keeping them entertained."

"You hate a lot of things."

"I do."

Charles smiles and sits up on the bed.

"Just run them a little harder today and we can sleep in later tomorrow."

Erik likes the way he thinks, that much he can tell from the way the man is grinning from atop his pillowcase.

"Can I love you anymore than I already do?"

Erik is still grinning when he kicks back the sheets, bends over, presses a kiss to the top of his head and turns for the bathroom. No, nothing ever changes in subtle little turns that make the upturn painless and silent. Charles sits still until he hears the water running before he allows himself to unclench his fingers from the sheets.

It's more than a quick roll in the sheets.

This, it is more than anything he has ever had in his life.

Charles knows he is bound to mess up.

And the words, they are at the tip of his tongue.

 

 

This phase has lasted.

"I always thought I would be the first one to break and say those things."

Charles admits, one night when he finally finds it in him to be a little fair. (Only, he is also a little drunk and has himself wrapped up in Erik's arms.)

"I wouldn't call it breaking."

"You wouldn't?" And he is honestly surprised because despite all his efforts to stay out of Erik's head, he has done it on more than one occasion. The guilt still hasn't caught up and he isn't looking forward to when it does.

It is the thrill of the chase and when he finally runs his hands down the span of Erik's chest, his mind clicks with finality. Or at least it should have. But it doesn't and he should've pulled away because this is not a fire he can control.

"Love is a lot like hate."

Charles sees Erik as someone who finds admitting affection, out loud, to be a little more than a weakness. Except he is horrible at reading people, even when he is born a telepath. So the spoken word brings out a certain edge, an overpowering sense that he isn't really better than anyone else, not when they are more with less.

It keeps him grounded.

And still good.

"And hate is a source of power."

Erik flexes his fingers, splays them out across the surface of the table and looks at Charles with that hint of a rare smile.

Charles breathes out, lightly, "how are you real?" He leans back.

"All the scars (on me) haven't convinced you otherwise?"

"They, they are my encouragements, Erik."

 

 

The car runs out of gas.

The fire burns out in the fireplace.

The trigger hasn't be pulled, but soon.

"I really do l—"

"I can't have that, Erik." There's a war coming and everything is due for change. It can go either way at this point and Charles is finally giving up the reins.

"You don't—"

"I do, but I can't." Charles still knows a little truth in between all the uncertainties. "Not when you will."

"I don't understand."

_Oh Erik, but,_ "you will," _and it won't make either one of us happy._

And the ice melts into water at the bottom of their glass.

 

 

When he loses sight of him, it is devastating.

But expected. Except there is the sun blazing over their heads and the smell of sulphur in the air is enough to signal their departure. Charles doesn't say it, makes it clear that he won't ever admit it to Erik.

He kisses him long and hard, one morning in 1962, because he has a foreboding sense that it can't happen again.

 

 

They haven't been happy, not for a long long time. Not since he left, not since he stayed.

Not when he can no longer wake up to a man who won't say I love you in return.

 

 

Love, Charles has always thought, is based on the chase. Not the catch at the end.

So he doesn't really think when he gets up for the run. (And in the end, he gets what he wants, then something in the game has changed for him and the world decides to ruin the one good thing he has going for him.)

Love, it's a crazy thing indeed, he thinks bitterly.

 

 

Erik promises Charles the world. (It should be romantic, when he finally burns the world for him.

But this is not about unrequited love, even if it feels like it, this is about repercussions and things they do in the name of love.)

Charles tries to smile.

And it isn't unpleasant at all because everything is a flutter of pleasure crawling right below his skin.

Still, it doesn't solve the problem in the end and it continues to stand in wait for when the repercussions will come at him in full force with baring teeth and all. He is anticipating it, any time now he tells the world.

 

 

It is always just right below the surface whenever he is concerned. But it never is that simple, he thinks, at least it shouldn't be.

But Charles is not as pathetic as to look for a mind that no longer wants to be found.

 

 

And then they are waiting for the other to make the first move all over again.

XXX Kuro


End file.
